


Leslie and Ben After Leslie and Ron

by Nutriyum_Addict



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3224573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutriyum_Addict/pseuds/Nutriyum_Addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place after Leslie and Ron get let out of the Parks Department office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leslie and Ben After Leslie and Ron

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for: _Leslie and Ron_.
> 
> For the Tumblr dialogue prompt: "Are you drunk?"

"Are you drunk?" Ben asks her, once they’re in the car and he’s got Leslie buckled into the minivan seat beside him.

He’s not asking judgmentally or anything and he’s not even that surprised—he’s honestly just curious. Given her behavior, she could either be completely tanked or just loopy from lack of sleep. Ben has definitely seen her both ways before.  

"Yes. Very," Leslie responds, nodding wobbly. "Whoa. Hey, what’s happening? Where are we going?"  

"We’re driving home."  

"But I have to go to work. I—"  

"Right. I think you probably want to at least shower, change clothes, if not take a nap. Maybe go in at noon?" He suggests hopefully, throwing a small smile her way.

Of all the things he expected to see this morning, Leslie and Ron, drunk and running around the Parks Department office in borrowed exercise clothes was not even in the top ten. However, the fact that they had actually made up (and hadn’t killed each other) was a very positive, pleasant surprise.  

Leslie moans quietly. “God, yeah a nap. Maybe?” While sitting at the stoplight she turns to Ben and says very seriously, “I didn’t actually fart before. That was Ron’s saxophone. You can ask him.”

  Ben starts laughing at the weight she gives this assertion. “Yeah. Babe, I figured that out. I think we all did.”

  "Oh my god. The kids! Where—" 

  "Your mom brought them by my office with sleeping bags and we had a slumber party last night. I was hoping you would be joining us but…"

  Leslie turns towards him, a huge smile breaking out over her tired face. “Really? A slumber party in your office? You didn’t rush home to watch _Game of Thrones_?”  

He grins back. “Nah, we can watch it together tonight. Having the kids at work was fun. Just the four of us and about twenty stuffed animals until Marlene picked them up again this morning.”

  "Was Margo there?"

  "Yes," Ben confirms, smiling as he makes a right turn onto their street.  

"I like her. She’s smart. Well, for a stuffed zebra. Not as condescending as the ostrich….BoBo. Margo needs a last name though. Oh! And maybe a middle initial."  

He gives his wife a look. “Alright. You are really hammered, aren’t you? What time did you and Ron start drinking?”

  "That, my good sir, is a very good question. I don’t know. After it started raining in the office."

  "Sure," Ben nods, pulling the vehicle up to their house. He shuts off the engine. "That makes sense. Okay, drunkie, let’s get you upstairs and into bed."

  "Mmmmm…" Leslie says, as she quickly unbuckles her seat belt and clumsily crawls across the front and right into his lap. Once she’s started the process, there's really no stopping her and it’s all he can do to help her over the gear shift and cup holder spot so that she ends up straddling him in the driver’s seat properly, if not a bit sloppily. 

"Good idea, you hot, sexy chauffeur. Let’s get into bed."  

"Babe."   

She interrupts his words with a kiss that he can’t help but enthusiastically return. Honestly, Ben can’t think of any scenario in which he wouldn’t kiss her back. With tongue. But when she pulls away, smiling and trying to wink at him, he knows he has to shut this down.

"Babe," he starts again. "Honey. Look, I wish I could…take advantage of your incredibly drunken state right now, I really do. But I have a nine o’clock meeting with all of the department heads that I have to get back to the office for."  

"Booooo," Leslie complains, frowning. "You are no fun." But then she grinds against his lap a little, making Ben groan and grab onto her hips.

"Oh! Look, _Little Ben_ doesn’t seem want to go to your meeting. See, he’s fun!” She leans down awkwardly and he's pretty sure the steering wheel must be digging into her back as she places her hands on his stomach and greets the front of his pants. “Hi Ben’s penis! Fancy meeting you here at the Lady Pennington horse race,” she ends her words using a British accent.  

Ben tries not to laugh, but it’s a losing battle—his wife is such a wonderful, goofball of a woman. Especially when she's drunk and silly.

After he gets himself together he tells her, “Honey, seriously, I have an important meeting at nine and unfortunately, Little Ben goes where I do. But tonight, after the kids go to bed, we can do whatever you want…lady’s choice.” 

Ben maneuvers his hand underneath her to unclasp his seat belt, while she continues to wiggle in his lap in ways that are making him wonder if he _could_ possibly push his meeting back an hour.

"Leslie, come on. I love you so much but I really need you to focus right now and try to be sober for about a minute. You can be as weird as you want once I get you inside and up the stairs."

  "Ben. Ben. Wait." She looks at him, her eyes threatening to overspill with tears. "Ben."  

"What?" He asks softly, bringing a hand up to push some hair out of her face. He knows she’s going to start crying by the way she’s blinking rapidly and scrunching her face up. 

  "Ben, I did a horrible thing," Leslie confesses.

  "I’m sure it wasn’t that horrible."  

She sniffs a few times and then tells him, “It was. I stood him up. Ron.  For lunch. That one time…after everyone left. He wanted to come work for me because he missed us and I took all his friends away and then I blew him off and went off galavasc…vallavent… _gallivanting_ around Washington. I deserve to have my Ann-wedding-dress-house torn down. I’m awful. The worst,” she says, dissolving into tears against his chest.

He holds her while she cries. While Ben can’t really justify being late for his meeting for a quickie with his adorably drunk wife, if she’s upset and crying—well, that’s another thing. He always has time if she’s really upset about something.  

"Shhh, Leslie, it’s okay. You made up, right?"

  "Yeah, but Ben, listen, I’m a horrible friend. I really hurt him and I didn’t even realize it. How could I not have remembered my lunch with Ron? At JJs, even? God, I’ve become a monster."  

"You’re not a horrible friend. Or a monster," he tucks a few strands of blonde hair behind her ear, kisses her temple. "It was an accident. There was so much going on and—"  

She cuts him off. “But it was a horrible thing to do. There’s no excuse for that.”

  "Leslie, you didn’t do it on purpose. And Ron forgives you, right? And you forgave him for Morningstar?" He can feel her nodding against him, where her head is back against his shoulder. "And you’re friends again and you can be in the same room together and this insane feud is over, right?"

  "Yes," she says, nodding again. "Yes. Definitely."

  "Okay, good. See, it’s alright. I’m sorry that it went on this long and that you hurt each other, but it’s over now." He kisses her forehead again. 

  "He hasn’t even seen the kids since they were babies. Oh." A new flood of tears starts while Ben continues to stroke her hair. "And they’re so big now."

  "Do you want to have Ron and Diane over for dinner this weekend? They can bring John and Ivy and Zoey too." When he says it, he's thinking that six screaming kids in the house can't be that much worse than three—he's also pretty sure he'll be wrong about that idea.

  "Yes."  

Encouraged, Ben asks another question and hopes for just as easy of an answer. “Wanna go upstairs now?”

  "This is pretty comfortable right here," Leslie says, wrapping her arms around him tighter.  

"It is, but I think the bed would be even more comfortable, my little drunken cuddle-pants."

  "Mmmm…you’re the cuddle pants."  

It’s quiet for a couple of seconds before Ben nudges her arm. “Babe? Hey? Are you falling asleep?”  

Her head jerks up. “What? No. _You are_.”   

"Okay. Let’s get you inside. " Ben manages to open his door and help Leslie off his lap, keeping a hand on her to keep her steady while he gets out of the car.   

"I didn’t actually fart earlier, you know," she tells him, as he leads her up their front steps.  

"Hmmm, I’m not sure I believe you. I wish there was someone I could ask."

  "Ron! Ask Ron!"


End file.
